


Our Hearts Know the Truth

by AnthroQueen



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Blutbad, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Honesty, Juroehardt, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:04:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnthroQueen/pseuds/AnthroQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*The truth will set you free*</p><p>Monroe'd been standing in the continuous downpour for the better part of three hours, muscles tensed, body tuned for anything amiss. Any onlookers would have suspected him of being a stalker, or perhaps a burglar. The truth was far worse, of course.</p><p>He was in love.</p><p>Not just your run of the mill love, either. No, the fates were too cruel to just hand him an unrequited love with a hetero male. Nope, he got the Wowsa. He got to be in love with his best friend, a Grimm. Not just his best friend though, oh no, he was also in love with his best friends girl, a human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blutbads' Plight

**Author's Note:**

> This was a spur of the moment creation, pardon the shortness of the first chapter, I'm typing on my cellphone.

The rain was pelting down out of the dark blanket of the Portland sky, its tiny tendrils snaking down the back of Monroes’ neck, sending a chill under the heavy material of his coat. He shook himself, keeping his eyes fixed on the house in front of him, ears tuned to pick up any errant sounds. He'd been standing in the continuous downpour for the better part of three hours, muscles tensed, body tuned for anything amiss. Any onlookers would have suspected him of being a stalker, or perhaps a burglar. The truth was far worse, of course.

He was in love.

Not just your run of the mill love, either. No, the fates were too cruel to just hand him an unrequited love with a hetero male. Nope, he got the Wowsa. He got to be in love with his best friend, a Grimm. Not just his best friend though, oh no, he was also in love with his best friends girl, a human.

The fates were laughing at him, surely. Or perhaps punishing him for the acts of his ancestors. Monroe sighed, stretching his back, twisting his shoulders, trying to shake the melancholy. He was here for a reason, and, despite the fact that his emotions made him more inclined to agree, it wasn't for love. He was here to guard. Monroe smirked a bit at the thought, his mind conjuring an image of Jules and Nick patting his head, saying, “Good blutbad.” The smirk became a choked laugh as his imagination embellished the image.

He relaxed against the tree he'd been propping up for the last few hours, a smile on his face. Nick had asked him to watch Jules and the house tonight, concerned that one of the more human evils that accompanied his job was going to make a move on her. She’d been the unfortunate witness to a drug deal gone wrong one night after work, and the dealers were on trial this week. So, for the foreseeable nights, Monroe would be waiting in the cold, brisk night for a human to do something stupid. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, dislodging the rain. Wasn't love grand?


	2. Fight

That first night had passed without issue or conflict, just Monroe standing out in the cold and wet, his thoughts roving over all that was cruel in life. Unfortunately, the second night was much the same- rain included. It found Monroe standing on the same corner, leaning up against the same tree, heart wrecked, mind in turmoil, and silence coating the street. He rubbed at his eyes, hoping the cold water on his fingers might help the burning in his eyes. Fuck, he was so tired.

 

Not that he minded, so to speak. Jules safety was very important to him, as well. Not to mention the look of relief he’d seen on Nick’s face when he’d agreed to do it. He’d just have rather done it from the warm confines of the house, rather than the street. He understood, kinda, why Nick had deemed the street a better idea. Didn’t want Jules asking too many questions if Monroe accidentally ripped some guy’s arm off. Still, that just brought him back to the whole, “Why haven’t you told your girlfriend, whom you plan on asking to marry you, the truth?” Monroe figured that, given all the weird stuff that had gone down in the last year, Jules had to be suspicious. It would solve so many problems if Nick would just be honest. But he was trying to keep her out of it. Monroe respected that. He thought it was stupid as hell and the wrong way to go about things, but he respected the sentiment behind it.

 

A burst of rain splattered down on Monroe, telling him he was no longer alone. He froze, trying to calm his heart, keeping his breaths low. Slowly, he looked up into the branches above him. Sitting on a thick branch about halfway up the tree, stoic and focused on the house across the street, was a geier. Even if their taloned fingers hadn’t been digging into their perch, Monroe would’ve smelled them. Blood and insides with a side of bird dander and greed. Why would a geier..? 

 

The pieces clicked slowly together in Monroes head, like gears of a clock oiled after long disuse. Of course, wouldn’t it figure? Nothing in a Grimm’s life was ever without the influence of Wesen. Jules hadn’t seen a drug deal going wrong. Not in the strictest sense of the word. At least, not human drugs. Well, maybe drugs made of humans. Shit. 

 

The sound of glass shattering yanked Monroe out of his horror stricken reverie. His head jerked from the geier above him to house across the street. He saw shadows moving. Damnit. He’d been distracted with the Wesen and hadn’t noticed the humans slipping through the dark and into the house.

 

“Jules.” Her name was whispered like a prayer as he jetted across the pavement, his feet barely touching ground, vaulting over the short fence, his momentum crashing him into the kitchen door. Through the kitchen door, actually. Which caught one of the stupid flesh bags on the legs and it crashed to the tiled floor. Monroe picked up the scene in flashes, trying hard to fight back the woge, his heart racing, anger simmering into a fine rage under his skin. 

 

Jules was standing next to the stove, her hands gripping a small paring knife like a weapon in front of her, a half chopped onion on the counter behind her, butter burning in a skillet on the stove. 

 

A man of maybe Nick’s height, disheveled blond hair hid mostly beneath a black ski hat that was a size to small, was standing in front of her, a handgun held loosely pointed in her direction, though the man’s upper body swiveled towards Monroe as he crashed into the kitchen.

 

The second man was laying on the ground, cursing and moaning, legs pinned beneath the door Monroe was standing on, hands scrabbling for a second pistol that had slid away from him in his fall on the tile and was quite out of reach.

 

They had come with death in mind. Not just threats and promises. Death. To kill Jules. Nick’s Jules. His… 

 

The snarl that ripped itself from his throat wouldn’t have been deemed a human sound by any stretch of the imagination. For the first time in a long time, Monroe welcomed it with open arms. He whispered sweet nothings to it and wrapped it in the arms of his soul, letting it into every part of him. Possibly a poor decision, with Jules standing right there, but she was standing there at gunpoint. Monroe couldn’t take it- the thought that for even a second the goodness of Jules heart and the charisma of her smile may be lost to the world. Over a Wesen business deal. So he let the woge take him, throwing himself at the man who was still standing.

 

He heard Jules scream- whether for him or at him, he didn't know- as he and the blond man slammed into the stove. Monroes mind was a flurry of Attack. Protect. Kill. Feed. He struggled with the blond, surprised for a moment by the strength opposing him. Definitely not a human. They knocked the skillet to the floor. Monroe's eyes flicked away for a second, his human mind searching for Jules. He didn’t see her. Shit. An elbow caught him by the eye. His head snapped down and to the side, eyesight blurry. He snapped back with a snarl, just in time to see the gun raised and watch the barrel firing.

 

The bullet took him in the shoulder, spinning him, throwing him to the ground. Almost on top of the man who was still struggling to free his legs. With a head full of rage and spite, driven by the woge, Monroe reached out with his un-shot arm and snapped the man's neck. Even if he didn't make it out of this fucking fight, he was going to make it harder for them to follow Jules, wherever she'd run too. 

 

A boot connected with the small of Monroes’ back, pressing down on him. He twisted to look up at the blond… geier. Figures. One scout, two soldiers. The geier screamed at him, a high pitched bird shriek. It kneeled, digging the gun barrel into his chest. Monroe knew he was fast, but he wasn't sure he was fast enough to dodge a bullet quite that close. Pretty sure he wasn't, actually, not with a geiers speed and reflexes.

 

“My brother..!” The geier screeched, taloned hand gesturing to the dead man under the door. “You killed him!”

 

“Seriously?” Monroe couldn't believe this asshole had come here to kill Jules and had the gall to be pissed about collateral damage. Waves of hot pain started chasing the cold numb out of his shoulder when the geier dug a talon into the hole. Monroes chest bowed off the ground and he howled.

 

“Time to die, blutbad,” the blond said. Not before I can keep you away from Jules, Monroe thought. His hand surged up, punching through the geiers stomach. The dumb bird hadn't moved. It wasn't until the blond toppled sideways that Monroe saw Jules kneeling behind him, hands covered in blood, eyes wide and stark with shock. His head lolled to the side, his vision blurring and doubling, but he was pretty sure he saw that little paring knife sticking out of the back of the geiers neck. Straight through the spine. He grinned a bit. Good girl.

 

The room was dimming down. Monroe could feel his blood soaking into his coat. Damnit. Not good. How much had he lost? He had to get up. Jules was going to need him. She’d have questions. Wait. Who’d have questions? What did it matter? He was so tired. He’d been up for so long…

 

“..roe!” He blinked. Jules was sitting next to him, kneeling in his blood. She’d smacked him. He frowned up at her, that was awfully rude. He tried to say so. He might’ve gotten a word out. She made a sound like a choked sob or laugh. Jules had such a beautiful laugh. He could listen to it forever.

 

He must’ve blacked out again because the next thing he remembered was being propped against the kitchen cabinets, his coat stripped off, and an ice pack wrapped in a towel being pressed into his shoulder. He snarled weakly, that fucking hurts.

 

“Of course it hurts, you idiot,” Jules said, one hand holding the compress, the other fumbling for her cellphone in her back pocket. Her hands were shaking. “You’ve been shot, moron. So stupid. You charged a man with a gun!... Lucky to be alive… call an ambulance…” Though her voice was fading in and out, Monroe latched onto that one word. “Ambulance”. Oh that would be bad, that would be very bad. His geier-blood-covered hand reached out, wrapping around the phone, screwing the dial up.

 

“Monroe!” Jules shook the phone, trying to dislodge his hand. It worked- the blood was slick on the smooth surface and his arms were so weak.

 

“Nick,” he said. They couldn’t take him to a human doctor. That would be bad for everyone. They had to get him home, call Rosalee. His vision tunneled down to Jules face, the scrunched eyebrows and worried eyes. “Call… Nick…” His hand slid down Jules arms, falling off at her elbow to smack against the floor. His world was dark and all he could hope is that the third geier wasn’t backup but a messenger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this piece, please stay tuned and subscribe! Also, follow me on my fic tumblr (theverbosequeen.tumblr.com) to submit one shot prompts or see what's coming up. Follow my personal tumblr (thewrittencurve.tumblr.com) to witness the oddity that is me. :)


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